


Always

by Minkey222



Series: Again and always [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes Returns, Help my kids, Hurt No Comfort, No Fluff, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:51:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minkey222/pseuds/Minkey222
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bucky’s dead,” He says simply because he is. He died along time ago, or so he'd been told.<br/>He’s left alone after that.<br/>He is left alone, like always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> Don't hurt me, please.

He’s found, he didn’t want to be, but he was in the end. He always was. He wasn’t quick enough, wasn’t stealthy enough. Never enough.

He comes round once, no attention paid to the man in plaid. No attention made to man alone in his head. The man leaves with an air of finality. He doesn’t want to see him again.

He hears shouting but it leaves. The man along with it. The man with a mother named Sarah, a man with newspapers in his shoes. He was not visited again that day.

One more time, a week later, the man storms in, stinking of determination and pure rage, hard-set love.

“Bucky?” He says, the name astounding, bursting his eardrums.

“Bucky’s dead,” He says simply because he is. He died along time ago, or so he'd been told.

He’s left alone after that.

He is left alone, like always.

 

He sees the man again, once in the street, face downturned and shoulders hunched. He can see the shadows on his face, the hopelessness rolling off on his in waves. The interaction takes him by surprise, the name Bucky bouncing off of his tongue so harshly that he has to take a moment to address the situation.

“Bucky is dead.” He enunciates each word so sharply, intending to draw blood. He has to drive him away so he can’t get hurt. This is what he has to do.

He’s just following orders, like always.

 

The man- his friend- stops seeing him entirely. He doesn’t see him in the streets or in his room. He asks a man with purple smudges beneath his eyes about it. He looks stricken.

Gone, just like that, gone. Without a trace, too. It’s easy enough to do. He was once a spy, he knows these things.

But the man is gone.

He is left behind, like always.

 

It’s 6 months after the man left that he is found again. He’s not allowed to go, though. The man made of metal whose something or others was killed by his hands, tells him he was in Poland but he’s gone again. He asks for more detail but he is denied all access, he realised their people aren’t his friends.

He’s kept from his friends, like always.

 

He hasn’t heard from his friend in 7 months and in that time, he had been liberated from SHIELD by the metal man who has become somewhat of a friend. There has been no word from him in all this time and he can’t help but think:

 _Is this what_ he _felt?_

Because he was gone, for a long time too. Was he this desperate and lonely? He doesn’t want to know that answer.

He is a disappointment, like always.

 

It’s been a year and he is finally released into the bitter tundras of Russia. Screaming a foreign name into the wind, the words being swept away before they could reach the ears of the man he called a friend. He sees the man look around for him, he wants nothing more that to reach out to him and comfort him and say,

‘I’m sorry. I’m here now’

He doesn’t say that, though, when he pounces on him. He shouts at him in relief.

“Steve’s dead,” and so is he.

He’s killing people, like always.

 

He sees it on the news, lapping up the sight of his friend desperately. There was an attack, he couldn’t call out for help. Ambulances on scene and not much chance for survival. 20 dead, much more injured. He rushes to the hospital, he doesn’t breathe. His lungs are not working and he is so very numb. He sees him there, pale and emaciated, shivering under the weight of the blanket. A large disfiguration where bandages are wrapped tightly around the wound where a metal pole had stuck its way through his abdomen. If the wound didn’t kill him, the infection would. There was not much hope, but it had been a year and a half since he last saw his friend and God help him if he didn’t see his friend right now.

He’s there for his friend, like always.

* * *

 

Except when he’s not.

* * *

 

“What happened, Steve?”

“What went wrong?”

The words heavy on his tongue and swirling around in his mouth, are met with silence. A blank glare, no attention spared for him.

Each word pushes his friend further under and there is no going back.

He loses his friends, like always.

**Author's Note:**

> Still not sure if he dies at the end. It's up to you.


End file.
